


where the skies are blue

by captainsarmband



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-24
Updated: 2017-03-24
Packaged: 2018-10-10 02:43:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10427373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainsarmband/pseuds/captainsarmband
Summary: It's a sunny afternoon during their coaching course and Christoph has missed the feeling of a football at his feet, the banter of teammates, the easy joy they share. But when Sebastian smiles at him, bright and carefree, he realizes it's what he missed the most.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [Metze's tweet](https://twitter.com/CMetzelder/status/845244826278907905) that was uncalled for and left me with a lot of feelings. 
> 
> The title is taken from The Lumineers' song with the same name.

 

 

“I want you to get together in group of threes. Player A dribbles around the slalom poles and passes to Player B, then makes his way over the hurdles as fast as possible to receive the ball from Player A again. You see those three horizontal poles over there? Those are your opposing defender. Player A dribbles towards the poles and passes to Player C just before he reaches them. Player C passes back in a quick one-two and Player A takes a shot at goal with his second touch.” Sebastian stops gesturing at the respective stages and looks at them expectantly. “Any questions?”

 

Christoph squints against the sun that only allows him to see Sebastian’s silhouette. “Sorry, you lost me at group of threes.”

 

The others around him laugh and he thinks he can see Sebastian crack a smile, too. It reminds him of the days when training together was part of his daily routine. As much as he took it for granted then, he values it even more now. His limbs are heavier and his breath is a little shorter (a lot actually, but that’s alright), but the laughter comes easier without the pressure of a looming match on his shoulders. 

 

He can see it in the others, too (some he used to play with, some he played against); despite their focus and investment in this part of their coaching classes, they’re enjoying it, somehow reclaiming the game for themselves, remembering to have fun with it instead of feeling strained and worried and always that one step behind (they all reached and overcame that point in their career sooner or later).

 

“No problem, Metze,” Sebastian says and Christoph bites back a smile at the playful way he says his name. “You could just take the place of one of the poles, I wasn’t quite sure if they were too hard an obstacle to go up against anyway.”

 

Laughter breaks out around him again, Owo hoots the loudest and Christoph slaps him around the head.

 

“Everyone else clear?” Sebastian asks and looks around the group, meeting eager nods and words of agreement. “Great, go ahead then.”

 

While the others move on to team up and start their drills, Christoph stops beside Sebastian, following his gaze to watch their colleagues in the warm afternoon sun.

 

“Do you want me to explain the course to you again, Mr Metzelder?” Sebastian asks without looking at him and the corner of his mouth crinkles with the grin he holds back.

 

“No, I’m good, Coach,” Christoph replies. “Just checking in.”

 

Sebastian licks his lips and looks at him for a second before turning his eyes back towards the others. “It feels a little off, doesn’t it? Like we’re playing pretend and the next moment the coach will turn up to let us run extra laps for imitating him. But at the same time it-” He stops and shrugs, thoughts lingering in the air between them.

 

“It feels like the natural progression?” Christoph finishes for him and Sebastian nods. “And you had to try so hard over the past years just to keep up and every bone in your body was hurting and suddenly you realize that not everything has to be painful.”

 

“You felt like that, too?”

 

“No, I just read that in a book somewhere.”

 

Sebastian snorts with laughter and Christoph can’t help the smug grin on his own face. If there’s one skill he takes pride in, it’s his ability to make Sebastian laugh. After all these years he’s still mesmerized by the sound of it, though he has safely stored the memory of it in a special chamber of his heart (he drew on that stack of remembrances when he wandered the crowded streets of Madrid without knowing where to turn, when Sebastian wouldn’t pick up his phone, when he finally did but there was always an edge to his voice that spoke of exhaustion and disappointment and weariness).

 

“Do you think we’ll be any good at this?” Sebastian asks and points his chin to where the other men are following his instructions.

 

“I don’t know,” Christoph replies honestly and shrugs. “But we didn’t have a guarantee before we dedicated ourselves to playing either.”

 

“Yeah, but we were young then and thought we could take on every risk.”

 

Christoph quirks his eyebrow. “Sorry, Kehli, but you were never the risky type.”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“Remember the World Cup in 2006 when I couldn’t even convince you to leave the room after curfew because you thought we’d get caught?”

 

Sebastian opens his mouth to protest but shuts it again and shakes his head. “Fair enough.” He bites his lip and studies Christoph’s face before he adds, “I don’t remember you complaining about our plan B though.”

 

Christoph’s gaze drops from Sebastian’s twinkling eyes to his lips. “Trust me, that was never plan B.”

 

Sebastian laughs again and Christoph is reminded of the kid with the crooked teeth and skinny shoulders who shouted “Can you believe this shit?” into his ear five times in the night after they won the championship, until Christoph shut him up with a kiss (he’s always been pragmatic like that).

 

There’s a trace of that boy somewhere beneath his features today, clearer now than it’s been for years in which it was hidden underneath layers of responsibility and expectations and the burden that came with the tight cloth of the captain’s armband around his arm.

 

In the soft sunlight, his face seems to be glowing, the dark shadows under his eyes forgotten, the curve of his lips so easily breaking into a smile.

 

“Hey, since when does flirting with the coach get you out of training?” Owo calls across the pitch and a few of the guys start whistling at them.

 

“Oh, and I used to think you’d only become slow because you were busy courting Kloppo,” Sebastian retorts and ducks when a ball comes flying at his head.

 

“He’s an attractive man, okay?” Owo holds his arms out, shrugs in a ‘what can you do?’ gesture, and earns himself the banter of a class full of ex-footballers.

 

“Hey,” Christoph says gently, uses the havoc on the other end of the field to run his palm over the back of Sebastian’s hand and lets his fingers linger between his. “Don’t overthink this.” He leans forward and touches their foreheads together. He watches Sebastian’s eyes flutter closed and smiles when he feels the breath of Sebastian’s sigh on his lips. “Carefree is a good look on you.”

 

“Thanks,” Sebastian whispers and his lips almost brush Christoph’s before he pulls back. “You better get going with your drills or they’ll think I only keep you in the squad for your good looks.”

 

Christoph chuckles and allows himself to brush his knuckles over Sebastian’s cheek in a swift motion. He trots towards the others, only to turn around after a couple of steps, jogging backwards and finding Sebastian’s eyes still on him. “Hey, Coach?” He calls and Sebastian raises his brows expectantly. “I can’t wait to find out how to get into the starting line-up.”

 

Sebastian shakes his head incredulously and ducks his head to hide his laughter. Christoph smiles to himself and stores the image somewhere in that particular place with the other memories, but when he turns around, his chest wide with happiness, his mind calm with tranquility, he figures he might not need them anymore.

 

 


End file.
